Super Pop!: Pop Culture Recommendations for Every Occasion

Outwit Death: Ten Essential Lessons in Survival

Do you know what’s dangerous? Human existence, that’s what! Every day we get out of bed (already dangerous), commute somewhere via trains (which derail) and cars (which crash), do some work (which leads to stress, which causes heart disease), and then socialize over drinks (a kind of poison) with other people (our natural enemies) before going to sleep (. . . aka “a pleasant death!”). And that’s without even accounting for rabid possums, poisoned pens, or electrified manhole covers. Still, it’s worth remembering that, although Death’s been gunning for us since Eden, we’ve been plotting our escape for just as long. Let us count the ways . . .

10. ROBINSON CRUSOE, WRITTEN BY DANIEL DEFOE (1719)

Parents wisely tell their children never to turn their backs on the sea (because it’s clearly out to murder us); but when our fronts are to the sea, our backs are to something else. After being shipwrecked, Robinson Crusoe doesn’t turn his back on anything. Instead he identifies his resources, turns everything to account, and never stops planning. The tension in the book is endless because nothing is ever guaranteed. Today’s solution is tomorrow’s problem, and that’s as true in America today as it was in England in 1719, when Defoe’s book (which many claim is the first novel written in English) was published. The only book that Crusoe had on his island was a copy of the Bible, but whether you’re looking for spiritual or physical sustenance, it’s hard to do better than Defoe’s masterpiece. It’s a thousand books in one, and every time you read it, you learn something new.

9. THE EDGE, SCREENPLAY WRITTEN BY DAVID MAMET (1997)

Elle Macpherson, David Mamet, Alec Baldwin, Sir Anthony Hopkins, and a bear. I mean, stop it. It’s too much. David Mamet’s trademark brand of obscenity-laced machismo gets
its perfect outlet here, as Anthony Hopkins has to somehow (1) survive a crash landing, (2) stave off bear attacks, (3) eat maggots, (4) tease out the difference between bosom companion (Alec Baldwin) and cuckolding murderer (Alec Baldwin), and (5) rediscover civilization. Fortunately, Hopkins’s character is a great reader and knows how to make a compass from scratch. Unfortunately, he doesn’t realize that when you’re stuck in the wild with Alec Baldwin, the only direction worth going is: away from Alec Baldwin

8. INTO THE WILD, WRITTEN BY JON KRAKAUER (1996)

Most behavior guidelines consist almost entirely of No’s: Don’t hit your classmates. Don’t pee in the pool. Don’t eat poisonous snacks. And so on. These are good rules, but every once in a while even the best rules need to be tested. Christopher Johnson McCandless was a very brave, very smart guy who said no to all the No’s, headed into nature, and sought to live a wilder, more natural life. Four months later, he was dead. This wasn’t a necessary outcome to his life philosophy by any means, but it does show just how critical every decision becomes when you leave civilization’s safety nets behind

7. LORD OF THE FLIES
, DIRECTED BY PETER BROOK (1963)

 Childhood is a brutal business: Adults give you food (aka “lunch”), but the bullies take it from you. Parents give you a name, but the wiseacres give you a new one. And then gym class comes along, and your “teachers” stand idly by while other kids fire bouncy red missiles at you. The torture never ends, and then you’re expected to somehow grow up. Lord of the Flies is about that strange blend of brutality and civility that we call “childhood,” but it’s also about the primal forces that lie beneath all of civilization, no matter how old you may be. The novel of the same name (written by William Golding) offered an alarmingly convincing portrayal of what children would be like when stranded on a desert island and stripped of all oversight; but the film went one step further: Peter Brook took a fairly random sampling of aspiring child actors, put them on an island, removed almost any sense of supervision, and started filming. In his words: “the only falsification in Golding’s fable is the length of time the descent to savagery takes. His action takes about three months. I believe that . . . complete catastrophe could occur within one long weekend.” (Note to self: Every- one on earth is or has been a child, therefore, RUN.)